


Lady Killer

by vigilantedusk



Category: Hannibal (TV), Outlast (Video Games), Outlast: Whistleblower - Fandom
Genre: Backstory, Blame Hannibal, Eddie's pov, Eventually Murder, Gen, Manipulative Hannibal, Mental Coercion, Pre-Asylum, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:11:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3698645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vigilantedusk/pseuds/vigilantedusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie Gluskin didn't formulate the plan to murder on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come As You Are

A drive from my humble hometown to Baltimore, Maryland was probably just what I needed. It was nice to get away from all the hardships that were left at home. Mother had complained that I was still too hung up on the stories that I made up about her brother - my uncle - and my father. Why couldn't she see that what I had been through was real? She reduced everything in my youth to watching dumb movies and getting dirty at school. If she only _knew_. 

I was a quite child, and I cried often. But what child wouldn't when their own two family members did...  _things._ My father and mother were tailors, and had started a business shortly after they were married. I had inherited the talent they both had to sew, design, and mend clothing. I would sit for hours on end at the shop and watch them mingle with customers as they kneeled and attended to the hemline of a wedding dress, or fixed up a tuxedo. That's what the world saw when they looked at my family and I. Two happily married tailors and a cute son. Though I considered my father to be an absolute monster for what he did, he always did try to _make up for it_ by taking mother and I out. Out to town when the shop was closed. Out to eat, to watch a movie, and he'd even but a toy for his dear old son. Edward 'Eddie' Gluskin. His pride and joy. Father was an alcoholic, though. _That_ is what fueled him  _and_ my uncle to creep into my room one night and just...

I cannot even speak about it. It makes me hyperventilate and it makes me want to act out. Regardless of how _dear old dad_ acted when he was sober and in public, he would always be a vulgar _monster_ to me. It is because of him and my apparent acting out that mother said she had enough. She told me that if I needed someone to listen to my bullshit stories, that I might as well go ahead and find a psychiatrist. Oh mother...

With thorough research online, I found a doctor out of state by the name of _Hannibal Lecter_. According to Yelp and other patients commenting, he was renowned and brilliant. Such good help, but out of state. I talked to mother about it, and she said she could manage the shop fine on her own, but all the pretty female customers would miss seeing my handsome face while I took a vacation to better myself. I made a face. All these beautiful brides coming in to get their dresses hemmed and fitted flirted with me. As... flattering as it was, I couldn't help but think it was so _whorish_ for a bride to be, to flirt with another man. Maybe I was traditional in that sense, but I wouldn't want _my_ bride to do that to me. My bride. As if I had one. I had a few relationships in the past. One or two in high school to make me feel better about what my father did to me... but these girls... So eager to get into my pants and do things... Such minxes. Things they said that would please me. But no. They liked a traditional boy, sure, these girls in the 1980s that wanted me to take them dancing in a club and to concerts. Mother thought it was fine. So did dear old dad. Said I should spoil a girl like he did to mom. 

Look at me now, a grown man, apparently handsome to so many girls, and yet not interested in any of them. I didn't have time to think about the opposite sex, regardless of the fact that I wanted to get married to the _right_ girl. Even mother said that I should take out one of our single customers for a date and try again. She had always complained that I should be married now and filling a bride up so that she could have her grandchildren. Dare I say it, my mother became a demanding bitch. Then again, dad had left us with some  _whore_ he met at the bar, screwing us both. Regardless of the fact that my father out of my life was a relief, my mother took it hard, and I vowed that I would never do that when I became a husband and father. Mother said it was the right attitude, and from then on, I became the man of our house and full time manager and employee at the shop. 

I wasted no time when I got to Baltimore, early Wednesday morning. I went to a local cafe and ordered some tea - a drink I found to be better than coffee, for the smell of those beans reminded me too much of my father in the mornings. _Disgusting_. 

When I had first phoned Hannibal Lecter, I was surprised that he did not have a receptionist, and answered the phone himself on the first ring. I told him who I was, and that I was desperate for someone to actually listen to me and help me through this so that I could live my life happy and eventually find myself a bride so mother could be proud of me and have grandchildren. I briefly described where I was coming from - a boy who had been broken by his father.

 _"A teacup shattered."_ Said a thickly accented voice, eerily calm. 

I was relieved! Finally someone I could talk to. Dr. Lecter wasted no time in giving me the next open slot, which is today. I took it with no hesitation and maybe too eagerly thanked him.

From his photo online, he seemed to be a man of good taste in clothes. I wonder where he got his suits tailored. But alas maybe I would find out in time, for I was in the waiting room of his town office. There was a single mirror, and I looked over at it, making sure I looked fine. I may have been a patient now, but I wanted to make a good impression. My eyes, a not so icy blue, looked like clear pools of water that still had some sort of childlike innocence. But I knew too well that I was living proof of innocence lost by someone I was supposed to trust. My head is shaved on both sides, leaving a single, slick black pompadour in the middle - one of my ex minxes said it was a great look, and remember, that was in the 1980s. My muscled form was displayed modestly in my own dress shirt and vest, and I added a bow tie for show. I looked fine, admiring how I turned out on the outside before I heard a throat clear, and a frowning woman with curly red hair made her way out of the office. I smiled. Friendly. Warm. Inviting. 

"Thank you for seeing me today, Dr. Lecter. I was looking forward to our session ever since we hung up." I said, maybe a tad too eagerly. 

"No need to thank me, Mr. Gluskin; I won't refuse someone in need of a listener." Lecter responded cooly with a stoic expression. "Please, come in."

Without hesitation, I entered the office of _Dr. Hannibal Lecter_ for the first time.


	2. You Should Be Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy Session 1.

Hannibal Lecter's office had green-grey colored walls juxtaposed against one crimson wall, the complementary colors creating a nice contrast to the eye. The windows on the wall were open for the most part, long grey-green and crimson striped curtains had been draped to the sides, allowing for more light in the room. I walked around the office briefly to get a better look, something the doctor didn't seem to mind. Maybe it was custom for a new patient to get to know their surroundings. Upon looking around I briefly gazed at the few paintings on the wall, and up above, the office's second story book shelves. A bronzed statue of a stag lay atop a pedestal; I wondered what a male deer symbolized, or if Dr. Lecter just liked their beauty and grace and thought it was a nice addition to his already beautiful office. I'll tell you now, it certainly showed off his style and sophistication.

"Mr. Gluskin, please take a seat." Requested the doctor, and I blushed. He was right behind me as I admired his statue.

I took my seat across from him, placing my hands on my thighs. I was nervous, and I was sure he could sense it... Psychiatrists could do that, right? "Please, call me Eddie. Mr. Gluskin is..." I swallowed. "My father." The words were stressed, and as I said them, my jaw clenched and my gaze had averted to my feet.

"Very well, _Eddie_ ," Dr. Lecter retorted, taking his own seat across from me. He crossed his legs and placed a notepad in his lap before he stared at me and parted his lips to speak. "You mentioned very briefly why you wanted to see me. Your father and your uncle had... for lack of a better term, _broken you_ , as you put it over the phone."

I nodded, gaze still down at my feet, "A shattered teacup, or so you had put it, Dr. Lecter." I murmured, pursing my lips.

"Eddie, if I am to help you, you need to know that you can trust me. I am not here to judge, but to help you. You are safe now; your father and your uncle cannot hurt you here."

"What they did... it was unacceptable. They violated me and when I told my mother about it she didn't believe me, even though that drunkard,  _dear old dad_ had bopped her on the head and gave her a nasty bruise!" I blurted out, covering my mouth as soon as the words had spewed from my lips. A pen moving elegantly across paper was what I had heard, and I looked up. I wanted to know what he was writing, but I knew better than to be ride and pry. 

Dr. Lecter stopped his writing and looked up at me, and I knew he knew that this was just the start to that doctor-patient-confidentiality I have heard so much about. "They touched you, and broke that bond that a father and son... and uncle and nephew should have. What were they like when they were not under the influence of alcohol?"

"My father had been kind to us... the father of the year type out in public. He taught me how to sew, and how to be a gentleman. He took mother and I out, and bought us things. My uncle... I did not see him until he came to visit every so often, but he always put an arm around me. Made me uncomfortable."

"Are they deceased?"

"My uncle is, yes... Heart attack. My father, as far as I am concerned, is living elsewhere with some _wh_... another woman."

Lecter arched one thin brow when I almost sputtered out the word  _whore_. "How did your mother take that news?"

"She was unhappy, but I feel as if deep down, we're both pretty happy that dad is gone. When her brother had died she showed some signs of grief, went to the funeral, but otherwise moved on with her life. She still had dad... though he left one year later."

"You were pleased with your uncle's death."

"I know it isn't wise to wish death upon _anyone_... but I had hoped they'd leave my life. When my uncle died I felt relieved. My family weeped at the funeral and said I should maybe make a speech about him as a eulogy, but I refused. Stage fright I said. Father thought that was a good move on my part."

"Did he do anything to you after the funeral?"

Another swallow. "He drank and resisted striking mom, but he did slap me around a bit at home."

"How old were you?"

"At the funeral? sixteen and a half."

"And when the abuse started?"

"I don't remember... Maybe six."

More writing on Lecter's side of the room. "So you were seventeen when your father left. Did you have any relationships with females at the time?"

"I had a couple of girlfriends."

"Had they tried to get intimate with you?"

I nodded. "Yes... but I had told them that I was just a bit traditional. They thought it was cute and just started to kiss me instead. I think one of them cheated on me at a concert." _Whore_. I might have yelled that under the influence of alcohol. 

"Traditional in the sense you didn't want to have sex before marriage?"

"Yes. Mother had often taken me to church and expressed that abstinence before marriage was the right way to go... though I won't lie, I might have done things to myself. I was drunk enough at that concert to let my cheating girlfriend pleasure me orally. I felt dirty, but not like after my father and uncle were done."

"I see." Lecter pursed his lips and reclined back into his chair. "Were you reminded of your father when your girlfriend at the time... serviced you?"

"A little bit, yes. She didn't seem to notice I was nearly hallucinating. I think there was more to that alcohol at that concert."

"She must have thought you were in a state of pleasure."

"I suppose. Like father and uncle _thought_ I liked what they were doing." I frowned and looked back down to my feet.

Lecter changed the subject. "When your father ran off... did you assume the role of man of the house?"

"Yes. Also as a full time employee at the shop we owned."

"Oh?"

"Tailors.... it explains why he taught me how to sew. I worked. I got flirted with. I did not like it. I saw wedding dresses.... I liked those."

"Ah ha. Do you want to get married?"

"Yes! And to a faithful girl. Not one who would flirt with her tailor as he dress got fitted and hemmed. Look at me, a grown man with standards for a girl... mother wants grandchildren."

"Do you want children, Eddie?"

"Oh, yes, with all my heart! I would never let _anyone_ hurt them!"

"You have nice standards, Eddie. I have those standards, as well."

"Are you married with a child?"

A chuckle. "No... but I had a sister. She unfortunately passed when she was a child. But she taught me things. About myself."

"I am sorry..."

"Thank you, Eddie. But I am perfectly fine, now. Perhaps one day I will meet _a girl just like the one that married dear old dad_."

"I love that song!"

"I heard you humming it outside, pardon my intrusion."

"Oh, it's no intrusion. Doctor, you've really helped me more than I'd ever thought! Thank you!"

"Shall we schedule another appointment?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Next week then. I trust a ride to Baltimore isn't too much for you?"

"Oh, not at all. It is all worth it."

"Excellent. Until then, do not hesitate to call if you need me. I have had patients with stories similar to yours, and I try to make myself available for those who need me most." Lecter nodded, getting up from his seat.

I did the same and smiled, the both of us walking towards the door. I exited and we both bid our adieus. I smiled a little brighter that day, as if a weight had been lifted.


	3. Policy of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no place like home, Eddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile since I've updated. But with Hannibal Season 3 and Outlast 2 coming soon, the muse should be back soon.

The drive from Maryland to Colorado was long enough, and I'm glad that I was finally home. Actually, that might have been the first time that I've actually thought that to myself, because for obvious reasons I disliked going home in the past. I would always trudge in begrudgingly when I was a youth. Of course, the only person to deal with nowadays was mother, and for an elderly lady, she was quite the handful. Sure she could take care of herself, but she was a shrill little thing with a demanding voice which just worsened as we both got older. If only finding a nice girl and getting married was that easy, as she claims it to be.

When I slammed the car door shut behind me, I briefly checked my watch. Six thirty in the evening, it was about dinnertime and as tired as I was, I was also hungry. I'd have to repeat this journey next week, but I've decided to make it easy on myself and purchase a plane ticket and a meal at the airport before I'd take a cab home.

The lights inside were on, so obviously mother was up, probably watching one of her soap operas. I'm one of those sons who would sit with their mothers and watch their favorite show with them. It was nice to have something other than dear old dad abusing us and tailoring to bond over with her, especially since she was getting older. 

Lifting a hand to the door, I inserted my key into the lock and turned it to the right, just as usual. I could see my reflection on the window, and there were some bags under my eyes. Nothing an actual good night's sleep (and mother's Chanel eye cream) to help fix that. 

"Edward, is that you?" Mother called from the living room, the sounds of television commercials filling my ears.

"Yes, mother. Don't mind me, I'm just going to eat and head off to bed."

"There's pot roast on the counter, and mashed potatoes in the pot on the stove."

"Thank you, mother. I'll help myself and clean up."

"You're not planning on going back to Maryland again, are you?"

"I am... why?"

"Because Doctor Lecter or whatever called to make sure you got home safe and to confirm your appointment for next week."

"And what did you say...?"

"I said you'd call him back. Now go eat, my show's back on!"

An exasperated sigh spilled from my lips and I closed my eyes for a brief moment, head shaking before I hung up my coat and placed my small suitcase under the coat rack. Upon stepping into the kitchen, the smell of mother's home cooked food brought a small, serene smile to my lips. I had totally expected to cook myself, so this was a nice surprise.

While I set the dutch oven on the stove and waited for both mashed potatoes and pot roast to warm up a bit, I decided to take a few minutes and call Doctor Lecter back. He had probably gone home, judging by the time, so I'd leave a message. 

Pulling his business card from my wallet, I dialed his number. Hannibal Lecter answered on the first ring.

"Hello?" Lecter asked in his charming Lithuanian accent.

"Dr. Lecter! It's Eddie... Gluskin. I just wanted to return your call. I am home, and our appointment for next week is still confirmed."

"That is wonderful news... I look forward to seeing you again. But if you'll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to now."

"Oh, don't let me keep you then!"

"Goodbye, Eddie."

"Goodbye, Dr. Lecter."

Silence.

The ding of a kitchen timer surprised me. That was fast, but not fast enough according to my stomach.

Practically running back into the kitchen, I took a plate from the cupboard and filled it before I finally dug in. I was only about halfway in before the phone rung again. Please don't be a telemarketer at this hour. 

Setting my half-full plate down on the counter, I begrudgingly answered the phone just in the way that mother had preferred I did right after I cleared my throat. "Hello, Gluskin residence."

_"Eddie..."_ Responded a vaguely familiar voice. _"How's my boy, hm?"_  

No... It  _can't_ be. Not today... not after seeing Doctor Lecter yesterday. As if on cue, I sat and clenched my own thighs together, my heart beginning to beat in an accelerated rate. Even mother's _"Eddie, who's on the phone?"_  shouts fade behind me. 

It never failed. Deadbeat dads always slithered back into the lives of their unsuspecting children. Clenching my jaw, I darkened the tone of my voice. "What do you want, you _monster?_ "


End file.
